The Natural Cheese Popcorn Section of Wholefoods

Before I moved, I was grumbling to friends that I wouldn’t know anyone in St. Louis. “How on earth am I going to meet people?” I complained. “I haven’t made friends in ages. Where do you even go?”

“Just go to Wholefoods,” Wendy suggested, “and pick up moms there.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not sure I want to be friends with tofu moms.”

She shrugged. “Why don’t you try the natural cheese popcorn section?”

Then I realized that’s where I belong: the natural cheese popcorn section at Wholefoods. Wholesome, but not without fun. Not completely common, but not gourmet, either.

Forget talk of red states and blue states. Don’t worry about Attachment Parenting moms versus the Ferberizers, or NASCAR Dads versus the liberal elite. This is America, people! We’re defined by what we consume. Do you shop at convenience stores? Wal-Mart groceries? The Dennis Kucinich organic produce stand? Once you’re in your chosen venue, what do you buy there? The supermarket metaphor transcends simple dichotomies and allows you to choose whatever combination of items you’d like to put in your shopping basket. It encompasses all facets of your life: social, political, emotional, geographical, intellectual.

In the past year, the aspect of my life that I have thought the most consciously about has been the choices I make as a parent. As a mom, I’ve found very few people who agree with me on most aspect of childrearing. I like to think of myself as being in the sensible middle: I don’t think spanking is a good idea, but I don’t think hearing “no” from time to time will crush my son’s self-esteem. I don’t believe in letting young children watch TV, but I also don’t think feeding Ben a french fry is tantamount to child abuse. I love the closeness that comes from breastfeeding a toddler, but I did let him “cry it out” at night when he was 10 months old. I put thought into my parenting choices, but I try not to be bound by an ideology.

In the tofu mom playgroup I joined shortly after Ben was born, I found myself feeling conventional. I don’t co-sleep or use cloth diapers. I am not vegan or even vegetarian. I don’t particularly care about organic produce, and I’m strongly in favor of vaccinations. I never could get the hang of wearing my baby, even after one of the other moms demonstrated use of a sling.

But then I’ll read posts on the baby bulletin board I’m a member of, and I’ll realize there are all kinds of moms out there who are on the other side of the continuum, people who spank their toddlers and don’t particularly worry about fruits and vegetables. It only seems to me like most moms are more into Attachment Parenting than I am.

It’s not a new predicament for me to find myself in the midst of people more radical than I. In college, I joined a group called Womyn’s Concerns, and then lobbied unsuccessfully to change “womyn’s” to “women’s.” (My argument was that people spent too much time ridiculing our name and not enough time listening to our ideas.) I believe in liberal ideas, but I also believe in communicating those ideas clearly to a diverse audience, even if that means taking the views of others into account.

I like knowing where I fit in with my beliefs. I like the idea of belonging in the natural cheese popcorn section of Wholefoods, but part of me feels sad about defining myself that narrowly. As far as parenting is concerned, it’s certainly easier to hang out with moms whose ideas about food, discipline, and sleep habits are similar to mine. Politically, it can be relaxing to talk to others who believe George Bush is a simpleminded fool who has mired the country in a mistaken and unwinnable conflict.

Surely, though, I am more than the sum of my political beliefs, my location, my career, and my parenting choices. Talking to people with different viewpoints—and actually listening to them—gives me a chance to grow. So maybe, while I’m still feeling vulnerable and new in town, I’ll start looking for friends in the natural cheese popcorn section of Wholefoods. In time, though, I hope to talk to people wherever I find them, and whatever they’re buying—or not buying.